


we also have wings

by mycleverusername



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28556964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mycleverusername/pseuds/mycleverusername
Summary: A bird gets into Rose Apothecary. The boys react accordingly.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 32
Kudos: 113
Collections: The Rosebudd Ficlets





	we also have wings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [schittyfic (sixtysevenlmpala)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtysevenlmpala/gifts).



> written for schittyfic's prompt: a bird flies into RA and can't get out. Chaos ensues. David and Patrick... react accordingly.

David is straightening out the cat hair scarves when he hears a faint noise. A crinkle? A… rustle? Odd, because the doors and windows in the Apothecary are closed and the air is still. He listens. He hears it again. David turns his head slowly, surveying the store, not seeing anything out of place. Wait. He rotates back a quarter turn and freezes in horror, because there between two of their decorative black birds stands – _shudder_ – a real bird.

“ _Patrick,_ ” David hisses out of the corner of his mouth, eyes locked on the intruder. But his fiance is back in the office, far out of whispering range. He weighs his options. The bird is calm. Perhaps it will respond to reason.

“Hello,” he says, taking a half-step closer. It’s as close as he’s willing to anything that isn’t toilet-trained while he’s wearing Rick Owens. The bird chirps softly in recognition. “I know those look like your friends,” David continues as he walks towards the door. “But they aren’t real. Your real friends are outside. Where you should be, too.” He opens the door and gestures out. “Would you please leave?”

The bird locks its beady eyes on David’s as it slowly, purposefully, raises one wing and pushes a cedar-scented candle off the table. David’s jaw drops at the audacity.

“Excuse you, I was trying to be _nice_!”

“David? Did something break?” Patrick asks, emerging from behind the curtain at the commotion.

“Don’t go near it!” David shouts, giving up all pretenses of calm. “There’s a wild animal in our store and it’s destroying our merchandise!”

Patrick freezes. “David, you’re not going to get it to move from all the way over there. You have to chase it out.”

“I’m sorry, I do not _chase_ anything, no matter what Courtney Cox may have told you.”

Patrick sighs and advances slowly towards the bird, which still sits, unmoving. David keeps the door open, just in case, and hopes that no more birds see it as an invitation. 

Suddenly, it rears up, flapping its wings violently at Patrick and squawking loudly. Patrick flails back at it and David watches in horror as the two make contact, flashes of wings and hands and talons colliding. 

Patrick stumbles backwards. “I can’t – I’m sorry – _fuck_ ,” he stutters, and flees back into the office.

“Can you spray some Lysol, like, all over yourself?” David calls back to his germy husband, and receives a pained moan in reply.

He surveys the damage. Three more candles and both bird figurines lie broken on the floor. The bird has returned to its previous spot as if nothing had happened, as if it hadn’t just murdered two of its friends. 

“David!” A familiar voice startles his attention back to their wide open door. “Have you decided to add ‘doorman’ to your list of responsibilities at this establishment? An elegant touch, to be sure, but perhaps not the most prudent use of your time?”

“Don’t move, Mother!” he warns. “There’s a wild bird in here and I think it might have just given Patrick rabies!”

“Birds are of the class Aves, dear, not the class Mammalia. They do not carry rabies,” Moira chuckles. 

“Whatever, I don’t care, I just need it gone. It’s more dangerous for our inventory than Alexis left unattended!”

“Indeed,” she agrees solemnly. Moira picks up a twig pencil off a side table and holds it out in front of her. “Friend,” she calls. “Advance.”

The bird responds immediately, launching off its perch and landing lightly on the end of the pencil.

“Lovely,” Moira praises. She crosses the floor with the pencil and the bird in her hand. David recoils as they approach and flinches as Moira tosses them out the door, the bird flying off the pencil and disappearing around the corner. “Be free, my little dear.”

David lets the door swing shut, trying to calm his racing heart. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. “But you will be paying for that pencil.”

**Author's Note:**

> This lil scene puts me at over 30k words on AO3, which compared to many others is nothing, but compared to me is way more than I ever thought I would write! 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
